


Play Me Like a Violin

by HighLadyoftheNightCourt



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Pseudo-Incest, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-11-16 07:56:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighLadyoftheNightCourt/pseuds/HighLadyoftheNightCourt
Summary: “I just need a place to stay for a little while.”“Why me?”...It's been a year since the kids have left the Umbrella Academy. When Vanya gets evicted, Diego is the only person she can turn to. The only problem is that he hates her. Or does he?





	1. Chapter 1

Diego winced. The cut on his shoulder was deep enough to get an infection but too shallow to need stitches. It was a minor injury compared to what had happened to the other guys. Two dead and one passed out on the floor of the apartment those idiots decided to rob. The family was unharmed --the same couldn’t be said for the house, but oh well-- and Diego had vanished before the police had arrived. He was getting good at this.

 

_Dad was wrong_ , he thought. _I don’t need a team. I am better than all of them._

 

At twenty-three all the kids had left the house; all except Luther, of course. _As if Number One would ever leave dad’s side_. The Umbrella Academy was no more. And for the first time in his life, Diego was the hero. Sure, Luther might go to a mission now and then (most of them being a success) but he was nothing but dad’s puppet. If he wasn’t such a conceited asshole Diego might have felt sorry for him. Maybe. But then, probably not.

 

The police didn’t see him as a hero yet, but Diego was certain that they would come to accept them as their savior. _I am saving lives while they are too busy obsessing over their pointless rules. What would they do without me?_

 

There was a knock on his door. “Come in.” He muttered while tightening the bandage around his arm with his teeth.

 

Jack’s head popped in through the ajar door. He was the owner and manager of this fine establishment he had come to call home this past year that he had been on his own. Living in the boiler room of a dirty, beatdown boxing gym had never been his dream, but beggars can’t be choosers. Jack was kind enough to give him the room with the condition that he cleaned up the gym every night. “Tough night?” He asked, looking at his freshly bandaged hand. Jack didn’t know exactly what he did and he never felt the need to ask.

 

“Nothing I can’t handle. Did you want something?” He let himself fall down on his couch, careful not to cause any more damage to the already worn out couch. He was exhausted.

 

“There is a girl looking for you.”

 

“A girl?” Diego didn’t know many girls if you didn’t count a couple that frequented the gym. Fighting crime was very time-consuming. “Are you sure she is looking for me?”

 

“That’s what she said.” He then added as an afterthought, “She claims that she is your sister.”

 

Diego fought the urge to roll his eyes. The old man was kind enough, but most of the time he wasn’t right in the head. “Allison?” _Wasn’t she in Hollywood rumoring her way through stardom,_ Diego wondered with a tang of bitterness.

 

“She didn’t give a name.” His tone implied that he hadn’t bothered asking her. “Should I let her in?”

 

“Sure.” Diego said after a moment that lasted longer than it should have.

 

Jack vanished and a few moments later his sister entered his room. But it wasn’t Allison.

 

“Vanya.” He breathed, surprised to see her tiny frame make tentative little steps as if worried that she was doing something wrong. She was holding her violin case and a small backpack.

 

“Can I-” She looked down, closed her eyes and tried again. “Can I come in?”

 

“Why are you here?” He almost felt guilty watching her flinch. Then he remembered all those awful things she had written in her book. “Are you gathering material for your sequel?”

 

She looked ashamed. _Good_ , he thought. Then again, Vanya always looked like that. As if she was ashamed of existing. “This was a bad idea. I should go.”

 

He should have let her go. He had every reason to let her go. Yet he didn’t. He told himself that he was simply curious to see what could have made her come to him. He knew he was lying. “Wait. Tell me what do you want first.”

 

“It doesn’t matter. Just, forget I ever came.”

 

“Vanya.” He warned, commanded, her name sounding dangerous on his lips.

 

She was aware he hated her. Even before the book, before they even left the academy. The others tolerated her most of the time, yet Diego acted as if he couldn’t stand her, as if her presence disgusted him. “I just need a place to stay for a little while.”

 

“Why? Did you get evicted from your fancy apartment?”

 

“It wasn’t fancy.” She barely heard herself.

 

“What happened to the money you made from exploiting our childhood?” He is cruel. She deserves it. She welcomes it. It feels good, in a sick, twisted way, to be hated for something you did. After spending her whole life being looked down upon for simply existing, having done something to deserve all that hate makes her feel in control.

 

She didn’t answer because he is right. “It’s just for a few days. Until I find a job.”

 

“Why me?”

 

She chose to answer with honesty. “Well, Allison is in L.A, Klaus is a mess and I don’t have the luxury of staying at a hotel.” She doesn’t even mention the academy. She would never go there, would never ask anything from the man she called dad. And Diego understood that, understood her. It’s perhaps why he decided to agree to let her stay. Or maybe because he was a hero, and that’s what heroes did. Or maybe… Maybe it was the way she looked all small and helpless and he felt a suffocating need to protect her, keep her safe at all costs. If only he could wrap his arms-- _Stop_ , he told himself. _She hates you. She wrote all those terrible things about you. She is not your sister, she is a traitor._ And yet, he couldn’t make himself tell her to go away.

 

“So, I was your last choice?” He let out a laugh, casual and so obviously fake. “What can I say? I’m really flattered, sis.”

 

She looked at him with her warm, brown puppy eyes and he sighed. “I am not giving you the bed.”

 

She seemed so grateful as if he gave her the whole world, and it broke his heart that she is so used to being mistreated.

 

“Thank you.” Vanya whispered, unable to conceal how shocked she was that he had agreed. “I promise you won’t even notice I’m here.” She expected to hear a rude remark about her being so unmemorable that she didn’t have to try much to go unnoticed but he didn’t say anything.

 

“I’ll prepare the couch for you.” He reached for his spare blanket and pillow and started working on the couch, trying to make it as comfortable as he can. _Stupid_ , he told himself. _You hate her_ , he reminded himself but he wasn't very convincing. It was easy to hate her from a distance but now that she was here every negative thought melted away. She always had that effect on him, even since they were children. It made him uncomfortable, never knowing what to say or how to act, so he avoided her as much as possible. “You can, ehm, go change in the bathroom.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

He _definitely_ didn’t think about her changing. Not a single thought about it. She was his sister for God’s sake. _Adopted_ , but still. It was indecent.

 

When she came out of the bathroom she was wearing long, loose-fitted pajamas and had let her hair down. She looked… relaxed, if that word could ever be used to describe Vanya.

 

“You look nice.” He said before he could stop himself. This was new to him; not being able to stop words from escaping his mouth. Usually, they wouldn’t come out no matter how hard he tried.

 

She smiled. It was barely a tug on the left corner of her lip, yet it lit up her whole face. Vanya smiling was a very rare occurrence. It’s not like the Umbrella kids weren’t depressed as hell, yet Vanya managed to have a deep sadness carved into her, never managing to shake it off completely. In fact, the only other time Diego remembered seeing her smile was on that picture on the back of her stupid book. _The picture! Oh, God._ She must have seen it, glued on one of the boxing sacks. He was a bastard. Before he could start to apologize, Vanya said, “Goodnight, Diego.” She added, “Thanks again.”

 

The guilt (and her soft, steady breathing) didn’t let him sleep that night. He had made a grave mistake letting her stay.


	2. Chapter 2

Vanya woke up first. She always had been an early riser-- her dreams never gave her any comfort. She decided to make coffee and her best attempt at breakfast before she spent the whole morning looking at Diego's chest rising and falling steadily. He looked at peace. It was as if she was looking at a completely different person from the Diego she grew up with. He was always on edge back at the academy-- especially around Luther, with whom he shared an intense rivalry about who would be the team leader. Vanya on the other side would have been happy by just being a part of it. 

 

_ He hates me,  _ she thought.  _ He never liked me before but now he certainly hates me.  _ She had seen her face on the punching bag,  _ his punching bag,  _ the paper torn and wrinkled from the many punches it must have endured. 

 

Then again, he hadn't turned her away.  _ He did it because he thought it was the right thing to do, not because he likes me.  _ Diego was the most honorable of the siblings but not in a pretentious way like Luther. Out of them all, Diego was the one who couldn't resist saving a damsel in distress. 

 

_ He can barely tolerate me.  _ After saying she looked nice (she hadn't and he didn't like her so his comment,  _ compliment,  _ didn’t make any sense) he avoided meeting her eyes at all costs. 

 

Diego woke up to the smell of coffee, which made no sense since he lived alone. “What the--” And then he remembered. “Vanya.” 

 

“Good morning. I hope you don't mind; I made coffee and scrambled eggs, or at least I tried--”

 

“I prefer them raw.” He said sharply, cutting her off. She flinched, just barely.  _ Good,  _ he thought.  _ Don’t let her get too comfortable.  _

 

“I’m sorry. I should have asked.” 

 

“Yes, you should have.” He wants to drink the coffee but he doesn’t because  _ she  _ made it. _ It starts with little things, like making coffee for each other,  _ Diego reminded himself.  _ And then before you know it, you don’t hate her anymore and then everything is a million times worse because then you can’t pretend that you are not  _ dying _ to touch her, to-- Stop.  _ She _ doesn’t want you.  _ Her rejection is safely hidden behind the veil of hatred, alongside with the feelings he has for her but will never admit out loud.  _ Hating her is easier,  _ is the conclusion he comes up with. “Listen, just because I didn’t throw you out on the street doesn’t mean we are going to be friends.”

 

“Of course.” Vanya set down her empty cup. “I--” She wanted to tell him about the flyer she saw yesterday announcing auditions for the Icarus Theatre Orchestra but she realized that he doesn’t care. So, instead of giving him another reason to insult her, she simply said, “I promise to take the first job I find.”

 

He wants to tell her to not settle down for anything less than perfect because if any of them deserve happiness it is her, but he doesn't. “Good.” It was so much easier hating her from a distance, hating a book that said cruel (yet completely true) things about them, about  _ him,  _ than hating her now, when she was so real, so impossibly  _ small.  _ He couldn’t help but wonder how soft her untied hair would feel against his fingers.  _ That’s why I avoided her like the plague back when I was a teenager.  _ What drove him madder than her rejection (or more precisely, her lack of interest) was that Luther’s feelings for Allison were mutual.  _ Why does he get the girl too? Doesn’t he have too much already,  _ Diego used to wonder staring at the dark ceiling of his room. 

 

Suddenly the transmitter (he had stolen it from the NYPD, but it’s not like they would miss  _ one  _ when they had so many) announced a Breaking and Entering in a store not too far away from the boxing gym. And Diego was still in his pajamas. 

 

“Is this... a police radio?”

 

He didn’t bother answering. He was already removing his shirt and trying to kick his pants off. He was  _ not  _ going to let robbers get away because he was too shy to get undressed in front of Vanya. She was probably not even looking at him.

 

He was wrong, for Vanya found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his body. Multicolored bruises decorated his chiseled torso. She couldn’t help but wonder what his defined abdomen felt like. Before her eyes could travel to lower, more dangerous territories, she glued them on her empty cup, looking at it as if it was the most interesting sight in the world. 

 

Diego was dressed (in a suit that was so ridiculous that he shouldn’t have looked  _ so good  _ in) and out of the room in a matter of seconds.  _ How the hell did he strap those knives on him so quickly,  _ Vanya wondered.  _ He must have done this many times.  _ She couldn’t help but feel worried for him-- he had the Umbrella Academy training but he was just one guy. He couldn’t take on the robbers on his own. Or maybe he could. He had significantly changed over the span of the year they had spent apart. He had become almost as muscular as Luther, whom she had seen shirtless countless times throughout the years, (he was always finding a way to flaunt his body) yet never had she reacted the same way she did with Diego. 

 

In fact, she had never felt that  _ ache  _ in her lower abdomen. It’s not like she didn’t know what it meant, (She was the only person with whom Allison, who ignored her for the most part, could have girl talks, therefore she was very educated on the topic) but she had never experienced it before. Sure, she thought the teen actors Allison used to be obsessed with were hot, but they had never made her feel this way. 

 

_ You are so fucked up,  _ she thought, letting out a heavy breath.  _ Out of all the guys you could be attracted to, you choose your brother. Maybe that’s why he is so disgusted by me, maybe all along he knew what I myself didn’t.  _ She got up and promised herself that she would get herself out of this place as soon as possible, which meant that she was going to have to look for jobs that she was more likely getting than a place at the Icarus Orchestra. Her dream could wait; leaving behind all these  _ wrong _ and  _ disgusting  _ thoughts was more important.


	3. Chapter 3

Vanya, after spending her morning looking at the classifieds, (and definitely _not_ worrying about Diego, who had yet to return) had decided that her best option was being a waitress to a donut shop that wasn’t too far from the boxing gym. _Something that won’t matter in a few weeks_ (there was no way in hell she would stay for more than a month) _when I’m out of this place. In fact, the location should be considered a con since I will have to be so close to him._ But, alas, it promised a decent ware and the working conditions weren’t that bad. It was far from her dream job, but it would have to do for now.

 

She carefully cut out the part of the newspaper that had the name and the address written on it and stuffed it in the pocket of her jeans. She then remembered that the flyer that contained information about the Icarus Orchestra auditions was still in her backpack. Not wanting a reminder of the sacrifice she was forced to make, ( _it’s only temporary,_ she told, _promised,_ herself) she crumbled it and threw it in the surprisingly empty trash can. Diego was clean for a guy. Pushing depressing thoughts and thoughts about her brother aside, she started making her way towards the donut shop.

 

When Vanya returned home after a few hours she found Diego lying on the couch. _Her couch_. The thought made her heart tighten. And then she realized that he was barely breathing. “Diego!” She shouted hurrying to his side.

 

His eyes were half closed, his lip was split and he was bleeding from a deep-looking injury on his forehead. In a moment of clarity, Vanya thought to check for his pulse. It was weak but it was there. She felt as if she could breathe again. “Diego, can you hear me?”

 

He groaned and failed to open his eyes. “Vanya.” His voice broke, her name a plea on his lips.

 

“What--” She was going to ask what the hell had happened, but decided it could wait. “What can I do?”

 

“Get. Me. The. Painkillers.” Each word was a struggle, a fight between staying awake and drifting into sweet sleep. But he knew that in the state he was, falling asleep was very dangerous.

 

Vanya half-scrambled to the tiny bathroom, doing her best to breathe and not let panic take over. She opened the medicine cabinet, knocking bottles and containers out of her way until she found the painkillers.

 

“I don’t think you should take so many.” She said when Diego put a handful of them into his mouth.

 

“It’s fine.” He managed, gulping them down without water. “They’ve never harmed me before.”

 

“ _This_ has happened again?” When he didn’t answer she asked, “Why don’t you go to a hospital?”

 

“I would have to explain my injuries.” His mouth was still a grim line, but the muscles on his forehead were starting to relax.

 

“What the hell were you doing?” _Something illegal from the sound of it._

 

“Being a hero.”

 

She shook her head. _Unbelievable._ “Your wounds need to be cleaned.”

 

“I can do it myself, Vanya.” Diego must have realized how ridiculous that sounded, given that he was splayed on the couch laboring to breathe, so he added, “Later.”

 

“Oh, so, you’d rather risk getting an infection than letting me touch you.” Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She was _terrified_ that Diego was going to take his last breath in front of her and at the same time _furious_ that he hated her so much that he would rather die than let her help him. “I didn’t know I disgusted you that much.” Whining was the last thing she should be doing but she had no control over it. It was the first time since she started taking her pills that she has felt such intense emotions. It was both scary and beautiful, caring about something, about _someone,_ so much.

 

“You don’t--” He sounded wrecked, his voice breaking from pain that had nothing to do with his injuries. “Fine.” Is all he ended up saying.

 

When Vanya was done cleaning his forehead wound she cleared her throat. “Do you have any other injuries, ehm, elsewhere?”

 

“There were a few on my torso, but I think they are pretty shallow.”

 

“I should check them anyway.” Her voice was unbelievably small and her cheeks burned as she helped him remove his shirt. Diego was right; the cuts looked harmless. She cleaned them, trying her best not to touch his bare skin with her fingers.

 

“Your fingers.” He groaned, half-delirious, surrendering himself to the painkillers. “There are so long and thin.” He took her hand in his considerably larger one and their roles were reversed; suddenly, she was the one struggling to breathe.

 

 _It’s not Diego talking,_ she reminded herself. _It’s the drugs._ “They are good for the violin.” Was all she could come up with.

 

He hummed, satisfied with the answer, and guided her hand, placing it on his cheek. “Vanya.”

 

“Yes?” It was absurd, really, how her voice could break over such a small word.

 

“Vanya.” He said again, enjoying the way her name rolled off his tongue. “How could anyone be disgusted by you?”

 

She was rendered speechless. _He isn’t himself._ “Then why--” She swallowed hard. “--why did you always avoid me?”

 

Diego looked at her as if she was an idiot and perhaps she was. “Because.” He closed his eyes making Vanya think, _fear,_ that he had fallen asleep. “Because,” He started again, “when I’m around you I can’t breathe.” He sighed. “Vanya. Vanya… Stay with me.”

 

She did. She stayed with him until he finally fell asleep, his hand falling from her cheek. She stayed with him some more, listening to his slow but steady (thank God) breathing. She stayed until her knees hurt from her having spent so much on the floor.

 

Not knowing another way to handle the unknown, powerful emotions she was feeling, she took her violin out of its case and left the boiler room. The gym was closed today, so she was all alone. Before her thoughts could take over and she started to over-analyze things, she began playing, surrendering to the melody, not unlike Diego had to the blissful oblivion that the painkillers provided.


	4. Chapter 4

Diego woke up to the sounds of a violin. _Vanya,_ he thought, because who else would be in the empty gym, playing the violin in the middle of the night. But, at the same time, it couldn’t be Vanya because he had heard her play and the simple, sweet songs she used to play had nothing to do with the passionate, dark and sensual melody that was coming from outside his room.

 

Vanya was a decent violin player but he would never say that she was talented; Diego was nowhere near an expert, yet even he could understand that she played mechanically, too obsessed with nailing the right note to put some emotion into the piece. Now, the melody was all about the loss of control, _the descent into madness._ She played the same melody again and again, but instead of sounding repetitive, it got more intense each time.

 

Diego wanted, _needed,_ to see her play. Getting up wasn’t the easiest task due to his recent injuries and the numbness of the painkillers but he managed to. Taking small steps and supporting his weight on the walls he slowly made his way to the main room just in time for the climax.

 

The melody, after having been wound up for quite some time, suddenly erupted. Vanya’s eyes were closed and her hands were moving with incredible speed. Her face was tense not from focus and worry like it usually was when she played, but from anguish. Every screech of the violin felt like a scream coming from her.

 

 _Why are you screaming, Vanya,_ he wanted to ask her. _Who hurt you?_

 

Her hair was untied and loose strands had fallen over her eyes. She was so consumed by her music that she didn’t even notice. He moved closer, entranced. Vanya might as well have been a siren, for he would have done anything for her.

 

She abruptly stopped. “Diego?”

 

“Don’t stop.” He begged. “Please.” But she was already letting the violin down on a nearby surface. It was an inanimate object and yet she treated it with such gentleness that made his heart ache. _Her only friend, her only solace._

 

“You shouldn’t be up.” And just like that, she was the sweet, shy Vanya he had known for his entire life. He had only gotten a glimpse of her passionate, confident side (a side he didn’t even know existed) but was desperate for more of this dangerous, seductive Vanya.

 

“No. Make her come back.”

 

“What?”

 

Damn. The painkillers were really messing up his brain.

 

Vanya looked worried. _She cares about me,_ he thought with a soft smile. “You should get back to bed.”

 

“Not yet.” He hadn’t realized he was moving until he was standing in front of her, his face inches from hers. “That was beautiful.” _You are beautiful._

 

“Thank you.” She looked uncomfortable but she didn’t take a step back. _Weird._

 

“Will you play for me?” Diego asked, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear. Vanya inhaled sharply and he didn’t know what to make of it. _She hates me,_ he tried to remind himself but his mind was too foggy from the medication. _I’m so tired of pretending that I don’t want her. I could kiss her right now. I want to._

 

Diego leaned forward, his intentions crystal clear, and Vanya didn’t move away. Diego was almost certain that he saw her eyes fall on his lips. _Do it,_ his mind, his heart, _every cell in his body,_ urged him. He was so close he could feel her breath on his skin.

 

He couldn’t do it.

 

Maybe he was a coward, or maybe he wanted them to have their first kiss (if there ever was one, which he sincerely doubted) when he wasn’t intoxicated, or maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. The reason didn’t really matter right now. What did, was the fact that he could have kissed her (something he had been dreaming about since he hit puberty) and he didn’t.

 

“Play for me.” His voice was hoarse. He couldn’t decide if Vanya was disappointed or relieved; maybe she was both. If you had asked him before tonight, he would have said it was impossible to feel both simultaneously. Now, he could understand the torture of being both glad and sorry that something didn’t happen.

 

She didn’t deny him this time. She picked up her violin and started playing a famous classical piece that even Diego, who was clueless when it came to music, had heard before. It was nice, but it was nothing like the previous melody. “No.” He said, interrupting her. “Play the other one. The one you played before.”

 

Vanya looked reluctant but eventually gave in. Even though she was playing the same notes, the melody wasn’t the same. It lacked all the emotion that made it breathtaking. He politely let her finish, wondering if he would ever get to see that side of her again. Thinking about what he could do to make it come out.

 

“We should both go to sleep.”

 

He didn’t say anything or try to stop her when she made her way to his room, _their room._ He watched as she took her pajamas and disappeared in the bathroom. He was laying on his bed, his body covered by thin sheets when she came out.

 

A small part of his brain that still managed to think rationally reminded him that tonight was the only time he didn’t have to take the blame for his actions and could pin it on the drugs coursing through his system.

 

“Vanya.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I can’t believe that we, _that I,_ ever thought you were ordinary. You playing… It was magical. _Extraordinary._ ”

 

Her face turned crimson. “It wasn’t--”

 

“Stop. Stop doing that.”

  
  
“Doing what?”

 

“Thinking you are not good enough.” He waited for her to tell him, _shout at him,_ that it’s his fault (and their siblings’) that she has such low self-confidence. That if they hadn’t spent their entire childhood trying to bring her down, she might have turned into the Vanya that played the violin with such emotion and intensity and made him, a grown man, want to cry.

 

She just shrugged. “Force of habit, I guess.”

 

“The couch is bloody. You should sleep on the bed.” He wasn’t thinking about tomorrow, about whatever consequences his actions might bring.

 

“And where will _you_ sleep?”

 

Diego couldn’t keep the smirk away. Both of them knew that there was no blood on the couch. Neither of them was going to let that get in the way of their little charade. _We are lying to each other and to ourselves,_ Diego thought. She wanted this, there was no doubt about it. _Or maybe I’m just high as a kite and don’t know shit._ “On the bed.” He said carefully. It was both an invitation and a challenge. _Go on, deny me. Say it’s wrong, that we shouldn’t._

 

“You hate me.” Vanya whispered.

 

He could have said many things. The truth would either have been the best or the worst, depending on what Vanya felt for him. He opted for a half-truth. “Not tonight.”

 

“Not tonight…” She echoed.

 

He could have let it end there. She was getting under the sheets and on his bed that had never felt this small before. He could feel body heat radiating from her; it drove him crazy. “What about you?” She was so close, _too close,_ for such dangerous questions.

 

“What about me?”

 

“Don’t _you_ hate me?”

 

“I never said I did, Diego.” _Unlike you,_ was heavily implied and he couldn’t breathe. He was such an idiot. He spent all this time thinking she hated him when it was _him_ that had pushed her away in the first place.

 

“Vanya--” He started but suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head and the room started spinning. He closed his eyes and the drugs pulled him into a deep sleep.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are amazing motivation, so if you want more please let me know that you enjoyed this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post a chapter today because things have been too hectic, but your kind words made me suck it up and finish it on time. I'm so happy that you are enjoying this and I love hearing what you think about it. I'll try my best to have a new chapter every day, or at least try not to have you wait for more than a couple of days for an update.

_ Vanya was sitting on the bed. She was on her knees. She was half-naked, only wearing the upper part of her pajamas and panties. Diego was standing in front of her, his eyes burning into hers. He looked as if he was a wolf, ready to devour her.  _

 

_ “Beautiful.” _

 

_ Instead of blushing and shying away, Vanya arched her back provocatively. “Thank you.” She purred.  _

 

_ “Take the shirt off. Slowly.” _

 

_ She smirked and so did he. At that point, it became uncertain who was the prey and who the predator. They were both wolves, hungry for each other.  _

 

_ Vanya put on a show, undoing each button with excruciatingly slow movements, all while softly swaying her hips to music only she heard. It was driving him crazy and she knew it; it was why she did it.  _

 

_ Diego decided that he wasn’t going to wait anymore. He ripped her shirt open, buttons popping left and right, and pushed her down into the mattress.  _

 

_ She wasn’t wearing a bra and Diego was above her, shirtless, his mouth inches away from hers. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him even closer. She could feel him against her stomach, all riled up. It made her moan. “Someone needs to teach you patience.”  _

 

_ He laughed and started planting kisses on her throat, turning the pale skin into a flushed pink. “You are welcome to try.” He sucked on her pulse point making her arch against him. “But don’t be too disappointed when you fail.” He hands skimmed down onto her hips, his fingers playing with the fabric of her panties.  _

 

_ “Off.” She breathed. _

 

_ “Say please.”  _

 

“Vanya. Vanya, wake up.”

 

“Mmmm?” She slowly opened her eyes, adjusting to the brightness coming from the bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. “What happened?”

 

“I don’t know. It sounded like you were having some sort of nightmare.” 

 

Her face heated up. She couldn’t see herself but she was certain that she was the brightest shade of red there was.  _ Oh God. _

 

“You were tossing and turning and making weird noises.”

 

_ Stop talking,  _ she silently begged him.  _ Please, for the love of God, stop talking.  _ She wanted to disappear. Scratch that. She wanted to  _ die.  _ “Yeah, I was, ehm, having a nightmare.” Her lie was so obvious that there was no way he wasn’t going to notice.

 

“What was it about?”  _ He is doing it on purpose. There is no way he didn’t see straight through my lie. Did he hear me moan? Oh, God… Did I say his name?  _ “Was it about Dad?” He was only joking, trying to defuse the situation, but Vanya turned several shades redder. 

 

“NO.” She said too quickly, too sharply.  _ No. It was about my brother. Half naked. On top of me.  _ “I don’t remember what it was about.” 

 

Now he was starting to look alarmed. He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Yup. I just really need to use the bathroom.”  _ And never come out again.  _

 

“Um, okay…” He hesitated. “Are you sure that you are fine?”

 

Vanya was halfway to the bathroom. “Yeah. There’s nothing to worry about.” After that, she got in and sealed herself inside the tiny space. 

 

“I’ll make breakfast.” He announced and she heard the bed creak as his weight shifted on it. 

 

The bed… What the hell was she thinking last night?  _ Is that all it takes,  _ she asked herself.  _ Some man calls you extraordinary and you are ready to spread your legs for him?  _ She was being too harsh on herself and she knew it. She just needed a slap, even a verbal one, to get her head clear. She shouldn’t have allowed all these little stolen touches last night. She shouldn’t have used the fact that he was intoxicated as an excuse to let him get close.  _ So painfully close.  _

 

Vanya washed her face with cold water hoping it would help the blush fade.  _ Is it so wrong,  _ she wondered,  _ wanting to have someone who thinks I’m extraordinary? Wanting to have someone who loves me.  _ Was that single word, that dreadful word that had haunted her her entire life, that had made her crave things she shouldn’t have? She knew it wasn’t. It was the way he looked at her, as if she was the most precious thing in the entire world. It was the way he touched her, soft and gentle but firm at the same time, reminding her that he was there. It was the way he looked absolutely  _ ruined  _ after listening to her play. 

 

_ Do not lie to yourself.  _ She didn’t know what that was last night. It could have been side effects from the medication or the injury itself or Diego wanting a warm body to share his bed (he was a man after all). It didn’t matter the slightest. What did, was the indisputable fact that it wasn’t  _ love.  _ Vanya was so deprived of tenderness, of basic human  _ decency,  _ that the slightest sign of affection made her wish,  _ hope,  _ for extreme things. Things she could, under no circumstances, have.

 

She came out of the bathroom before he decided to check on her because things were already embarrassing enough as they were. 

 

“I’m making pancakes.” Diego’s voice came from the kitchen. She didn’t know he cooked, but then again he spent a lot of time with mum, more than any of them. She probably taught him to. “They’ll be ready in a few minutes if everything goes according to this old recipe I found.”

 

She could tell he was expecting an answer but she didn’t know what to say. He cleared his throat and tried again, “So, about last night--”

 

_No, no, no._ “I don’t know what you remember, or _think_ you remember, but I’d rather not talk about it.” She couldn’t allow him to continue what they had (against her better judgment) started last night. He had made it very clear that he still hated her, even if he wanted her, ( _did he?_ ) and she wanted, _deserved,_ her first relationship to be with someone that actually gave a shit. Someone who chose her for who she was and not because she was simply available.

 

“But--”

 

“Let it go.” 

 

“Vanya, I--”

 

“ _ Please,  _ Diego.” He didn’t look satisfied, but he complied. “I found a job and I’ll be out of here as soon as possible.” 

 

Vanya was the one who had pushed him away, yet Diego’s reaction made her heart ache. He looked  _ happy.  _

 

“You got the part?”

 

“What?”

 

“You know what I mean. You got into that Icarus thing.”

 

“How do you even know about that?”

 

“I saw the flyer in the trash.” 

 

Vanya, despite herself, shook her head and laughed softly. “And naturally, you took it out?”

 

He returned the smile. It was small, careful yet hopeful.  _ What do you want, Diego,  _ Vanya couldn’t help but wonder. “I’ve always been curious, sis.”

 

“No, I wasn’t talking about that.” She looked away, not being able to stand the look of utter disappointment (and maybe even confirmation that she was nothing special, just like he had suspected all along) in his eyes. “I got a job at a local donut shop.”

 

The spatula he’d been holding fell on the counter, making a loud noise. “They didn’t give you the part?”

 

“No, it’s--” 

 

“Vanya, you were  _ amazing. _ ”  _ He sounds sincere,  _ Vanya thought. “If those judges had a single brain cell they would have chosen you without a second thought.”

 

“I didn’t audition.” Vanya said, trying to not let his words get to her head.  _ Keep your distance,  _ she kept repeating like a mantra.

 

“Why not?” 

 

She shrugged.

 

“Vanya.” He groaned and it brought back unwanted (yet not completely unpleasant) memories. “Look, I get that you don’t want to talk about yesterday but at least let me say this. You are incredible and the world deserves to hear you play.”

 

“It doesn’t matter. It’s too late.”  _ His words mean nothing to him. (Even if they mean  _ everything  _ to you) _ “The auditions are in an hour. I haven’t prepared anything.”

 

“Go. Go and play the piece you were playing when I found you.”

 

The Vanya she knew would never have gone to an audition unprepared. It was like setting herself up to fail. The Vanya she knew would have never been confident enough to go up into the stage and play a fairly unknown piece just because someone (who knew nothing about music) had told her it was nice. She would have never allowed herself to be humiliated like that in front of people she would have to work in the future. The Vanya she knew didn’t believe in herself, but  _ she  _ didn’t have to; Diego believed in her. And somehow, it was enough to convince her to run to the Icarus Theatre, violin case in hand, and walk up to the stage despite being embarrassingly late.

  
That was the problem, she had decided. Staying away from Diego wasn’t so hard because she liked  _ him  _ (well, that too, obviously) but because she liked  _ her  _ when she was around him.  _ How could you not love someone that makes you love yourself _ , was something she really tried not to think about while she played.


	6. Chapter 6

Diego had tried waiting for her, but standing still meant that the only thing he could do was think. Since Jack didn’t allow him to box (due to his  _ minor  _ injuries and despite Diego reassuring him that everything was fine) the only thing he could do was jog. He ran until his muscles ached and until he physically couldn’t think about what had happened this morning.  _ Vanya regretted yesterday, otherwise, she wouldn’t refuse to talk about it. She wants nothing to do with me.  _ He didn’t blame her. He had been an asshole to her their entire childhood. An apology would never be enough.  _ You should let her know anyway,  _ a small part of him said,  _ let her know how sorry you are and then let her decide what to do with that knowledge.  _

 

He was still debating telling her or not when he entered the boiler room and saw her slumped on the floor holding a bottle of whiskey Diego didn’t even remember owning. It was half-empty. 

 

“Jesus Christ.” He exclaimed, rushing to her side. “What the hell, Vanya?”

 

Vanya looked up. Her movements were sluggish. There was so much sadness in her eyes that he  _ heard  _ his heart shatter. “I’m sorry.” She gestured at the bottle that Diego had taken from her. “I’ll pay for it.”   
  


“I don’t want you to  _ pay  _ for it, Vanya. I want you to tell me what happened.” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he was so angry that he hadn’t been there to comfort her. She flinched, looking away and guilt tore him up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout at you. I’m not angry. I promise. Just-” His voice broke. He didn’t recognize the helplessness in it. “-tell what’s wrong.”

 

Vanya sighed, sliding lower into the floor. “I’m useless.”

“No. No, you aren’t.”

 

“Oh, shut up. You said I was countless times.” There was a menace in her words. He didn’t mind. He preferred her to be angry at him than at herself. 

 

“I was a kid. I was stupid. I didn’t know better, Vanya-”

 

“You all had your powers. All I had was my violin.” She let out a bitter laugh. “I am horrible at the one thing I’m supposed to be good at.”

 

“You are not horrible.”

 

“I messed up  _ twice,  _ Diego. Do you know what that means?” He stayed silent because he didn’t. “It means I’m a joke. There were teenagers that breezed through their piece without even stumbling.”

 

Terrible, rotten guilt was eating him up.  _ He  _ had convinced her to go play.  _ He  _ was the reason why she was so sad, she had to drink away her sorrows. “I’m sorry.” Was all he could say. 

 

“I should thank you. Because of you, I realized that I have no future in the music department.”

 

“Don’t say that.” 

 

“We both know it’s the truth.” She sounded so broken that Diego had to ball his hands into fists to prevent them from wrapping around her. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her. She probably wanted nothing to do with him, especially after today’s fiasco.

 

“What can I do?” He would have done  _ anything  _ to get her to smile. 

 

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m  _ so  _ tired of being alone.” Vanya sounded defeated as if she had given up in the most important fight of them all; life. “Please hold me.” 

 

The moment her words sunk in, he pulled her into his embrace. She was smaller than she looked and her hair was so impossibly soft. He never wanted to let her go. Vanya started sobbing and he hugged her even tighter, to the point where he could not only hear her heartbeat but feel it too. He murmured soothing things while softly rubbing her back. 

 

“I just want to be good at something.” Her voice was so quiet that he barely heard her. 

 

“You are good at many things.” 

 

Vanya pulled herself back, so she could look at his face. She raised a questioning eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

 

“You are an amazing sister, Vanya. Despite us being literal monsters to you back when we were children, you are still nice to us. Kindness and forgiveness are rare qualities.” He used his thumb to wipe a tear that was sliding down her cheek. “And you play incredibly. Last night you made me  _ feel  _ things. Today you messed up. So, what? It can happen to everybody. Does that mean you are going to give up? I don’t remember having a quitter for a sister. The Vanya  _ I  _ remember kept practicing the violin even when initially the sound that came out of it made our ears bleed.”

 

She smiled. It was almost non-existent and if you’d blinked you would have missed it, but it had been there. That was a victory in Diego’s book. “It wasn’t that bad.” 

 

“Oh, trust me, it was.” He laughed. “And on top of that, you were always playing that same song over and over again.”

 

“Frère Jacques.”

 

“Yeah, that was it. I don’t remember being happier than when you moved on to the next song.” This time she laughed a little. It was a quick, melodic sound that would be imprinted in Diego’s mind forever. “Now, you are going to wipe your tears, go have a hot shower and then we are going to wear our pajamas and watch trashy movies while eating comfort food.”

 

“Why are you doing this?”

 

_ Because I love you. Because you deserve happiness.  _ “You are my sister.”

 

If she wasn’t satisfied with the answer, she didn’t let it show. 

 

When they were half-way through their second movie, Vanya, still dazed by the large quantity of alcohol she had consumed, rested her head on his shoulder. Taking a risk, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer to him, so that her head and upper body were resting on his torso. She didn’t pull away like he expected her to. She just hummed contentedly and continued watching the movie. By the time the credits started rolling, Vanya was sleeping soundly on Diego. 

  
She was already on the couch. He should have slipped away and let her sleep.  _ That was what a decent person would have done _ .  _Not take advantage of his clearly intoxicated sister._  But, Diego was also tired of being alone. He scooped her up and carried her to the bed with him, where they both slept intertwined.


	7. Chapter 7

The transmitter woke them up. Diego, still half asleep, didn’t recognize the code that was being repeated. It pained him to have to maneuver his way out of Vanya’s embrace but he told himself it was for the best.  _ Coward,  _ he thought.  _ Easier to run than to explain to her why she woke up with her arms around you.  _

 

But, before he could gently start breaking free of her hold while doing his best not to wake her up, she whined. He thought it was because of the noise, so he said, “Shh… Go back to sleep. It’ll shut up in a second.”

 

“Don’t go.” His breath caught in his throat. Vanya hugged him tighter, wrapping her legs around him.  _ She is still sleeping,  _ he tried to convince himself.  _ It doesn’t mean anything.  _

 

“Okay.” He told her, which made her hum approvingly and go back to sleep, her head resting on his chest. 

 

Diego knew he shouldn’t, but despite everything, he felt happy. 

 

When they woke up for the second time they had breakfast (Vanya asked Diego to teach her how to make pancakes) and everything was normal, except for the fact that (as if they had some kind of unspoken agreement) neither of them mentioned that they had slept in each other’s arms. They’d started to be comfortable around each other, acting like regular siblings. Neither knew if they should be happy about it.

 

“Ugh. I have the  _ worst  _ headache.” Vanya groaned, drinking her coffee. Diego laughed. “I’m glad my suffering amuses you.”

 

“Sorry.” He apologized, stuffing his mouth with a big piece of pancake, dripping maple syrup. “It’s just that I’d never expected to see  _ you  _ hungover.” 

 

“Because I’m the lame one?” She hadn’t meant to sound bitter.

 

“Because you are the responsible one.”

 

“Which is, for many, a synonym for lame.”

 

“You shouldn’t do that, you know.” There wasn’t any need for clarification, yet Diego continued anyway. “Drinking your problems away. Trust me, it doesn't work.”

 

“Are you speaking from personal experience?” Vanya teased. She wouldn’t have called what she felt  _ happiness  _ (the suppressed romantic feelings she was harboring towards her brother managed to taint every interaction) but she certainly felt  _ lighter  _ than she had in many months. 

 

“I’m a Hargreeves. Of course I’m speaking from personal experience.” She laughed and the sound made Diego smile. “But in all seriousness, you shouldn’t do something like that again. There are better ways of dealing with anger and sadness than alcohol and drugs.” There was a brief pause as if he was internally debating whether he should say what he wanted to or not. “I could show you.”

 

Vanya, who had initially thought he was talking about blowing off some steam by random hook-ups, choked on her coffee.  _ There is no way he means sex,  _ she sternly told herself.

 

You could tell the exact moment Diego realized what she thought he meant from the way his face turned crimson. “I meant by  _ boxing. _ ”

 

“Boxing?”  _ Of course, that’s what he meant, you freaking sicko.  _ “I don’t think I’d be very good at it.” She admitted.

 

“You don’t have to.” Diego said earnestly. “It just has to make you feel better.”

 

“I don’t know…”

 

“Hey, don’t cross it out until you’ve tried it.”

 

Under any other circumstances, she would have denied his offer. Now, she was worried that saying no would drive a wedge between them and she didn’t want them to go back to being uncomfortable (and even hostile) around each other. “Fine.” 

 

They changed into work-out clothes, as Diego called them, and headed out to the empty gym. He started by helping her wear the enormous gloves that were almost bigger than her head. Diego couldn’t help but laugh at her; she looked like a cartoon character. Vanya punched him but he didn’t even feel it. It made him laugh even more. He taught her how to properly stand and then showed her some of the basic punches on a boxing bag. 

 

“Now try it on me.” He shouldn’t have suggested that. It was the stupidest idea he had ever had. Vanya’s body glistened with sweat and her hair was stuck on her forehead. She was panting. Diego should have tried to get  _ away  _ from her, not  _ closer.  _ His only hope was that she would deny him, claiming that she was too tired or something similar to that. She didn’t. 

 

Diego could tell that she was enjoying herself. Each time she tried to punch him and he ducked away she smiled even harder. “This is so much fun.” She admitted putting her whole force behind the punch just like he’d taught. “But, it doesn’t feel right, you not being able to attack me.”

 

Diego didn’t think. His body moved on its own, lunging for her and pinning her to the floor in a matter of seconds. He was leaning above her, his arms supporting him, while his legs trapped her body within them.  _ Leave now,  _ he begged himself,  _ before she notices.  _ The pants he wore were tight, perfect for boxing but horrible for hiding erections. 

 

Vanya wasn’t looking at his pants; her eyes were glued on his. Her breathing was uneven and her pupils had dilated. Her face contorted and panic hit him.  _ Did I hurt her?  _ “Are you okay?” It was as if she didn’t even hear him. “Vanya.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Did I hurt you?”

 

“No. No, I’m fine.”

 

He wasn’t convinced. “I’m sorry if I--”

  
“Don’t be.” She sounded breathless. “I should go shower.” She told him after he helped her get back at her feet, making it seem like nothing had happened. Diego might not have known exactly  _ what  _ had happened, but he was certain that it was  _ something _ . 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since the last update, but stay assured that I haven't forgotten about this. It's just that I've had to deal with a lot of responsibilities these past days. Comments are amazing as always.

Five days later Vanya walked in the boiler room, having finished her shift at Griddy’s, with a huge grin on her face. Diego couldn't remeber ever seeing her so happy.

 

“What happened?” He asked from his position on the couch. 

 

“I got the part.” Diego just stared at her. “At the Icarus Orchestra.”

 

“That amazing!” Without even thinking he had wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled in closer. “I thought you said you screwed it up.”

 

“Well, I got  _ third  _ chair, which is like the worst position to get, but it’s normal for people my age. I mean, there  _ are  _ prodigies, of course, but--”

 

“Vanya. You got in. That’s an incredible achievement and I will  _ not  _ let you present it as if it’s nothing.”

 

She smiled again, her whole face lighting up.  _ She looks so beautiful,  _ Diego couldn’t stop himself from thinking. 

 

“We  have  to go out and celebrate.” 

 

“Oh no, Diego you don’t have to--”

 

“I know I don’t. I want to.” Seeing that she was still reluctant, Diego added, “You deserve it.”

 

Vanya eventually gave in and let him take her to a restaurant she made him promise wasn’t going to be too fancy and expensive. He mostly kept his promise and took them to a small hipster diner he knew Vanya was going to love. She did.

 

They joked and laughed all night and when they returned home they felt drunk despite not having consumed any alcohol.  _ I guess that’s what happiness feels like,  _ Vanya thought. “I don’t want tonight to end.” She confessed, taking off her jacket and letting it fall on the couch. 

 

“Me neither.” Said Diego. “I could make us popcorn.” He suggested. “I’ll even let you pick up the movie. How does that sound?”

 

Vanya wanted to say that it sounded perfect, but she found herself just shrugging. She looked like a painting, standing impossibly still in front of him. Her warm brown eyes were looking at him with a mixture of desire and innocence Diego found irresistible. 

 

_ There is no going back,  _ he thought as he reached and took her face in his large hands, kissing her. She expelled a gasp that quickly turned into a moan that made him shed any doubt he might have had. 

 

As the kiss deepened he picked Vanya up and carried her to the couch.  _ The couch can mean just a casual make-out,  _ he thought.  _ I don’t want to pressure her by taking this to the bed.  _ He let her set the pace and while his hands roamed on her body, he didn’t try to remove either Vanya’s or his clothes. Vanya surprised him by taking her shirt off first and then trying to get him to do the same. 

 

He felt the need to mark the porcelain skin that was just revealed to him, to mark  _ her  _ as his own. But she wasn’t his. He did he best to remember that as he planted soft kisses on her throat and collarbone making her gasp in ecstasy. 

 

Her hands grabbed his face and brought it to hers, pressing her lips against his. He had never seen Vanya so  _ hungry,  _ so  _ needy  _ for anything in their entire life. His sister had always been a ghost, silently watching and sometimes participating but never initiating something. She had the same passion and desperation with the Vanya that had played the violin a few nights ago. 

 

His hands played with the zipper on her jeans. “Is this okay?” He had to ask, even if it meant hearing a  _ no.  _

 

“Yes.” She said breathlessly. Her hair had gotten out of her tight ponytail and her face was flushed out. She had never looked more lovely. “Just--” She expelled a breath. “Can we take it slow?”

 

"Of course.” He said immediately. They could do whatever she wanted. He told her as much and stopped his movements, letting her take the lead. 

 

Vanya didn’t look him in the eyes when she said, “I don’t really know what I want, or what to do.” Her voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her. “I haven’t done this before.” 

 

Vanya expected him to smile at her and be heartbreakingly gentle while he taught her everything. At least, that’s what happened in the movies. Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t in one. “Is it a problem?” She asked when Diego grimaced.

 

“We can’t do this, Vanya.” Was all he had to say.

 

“Why not?” Her voice quivered.  _ Don’t cry, please don’t cry.  _

 

“This was supposed to be a one-time thing, a mistake we would never talk about again. I don’t want your first time to be a mistake.” 

 

“It doesn’t have to be a mistake.” 

 

That made him angry. “Of course it has to be! I’m your brother.” 

 

Vanya couldn’t help the tears from falling. She tried to reach for her shirt but Diego stopped her by pulling her into him. He held her face in between his hands and she wished he didn’t because it was making her feel like a child. “You have no idea how much I want you.” Diego started, looking straight into her eyes, “There is nothing I would have liked more than to make you mine, but I can’t do that to you. Your first time is supposed to be special.”  _ Not with someone like me,  _ he thought but didn’t say.

 

“I thought men weren’t supposed to care about things like that.”

 

A bitter smile formed on his lips. “Well, I do care about it.”

 

“Can you please let me get dressed. This is embarrassing enough.”

 

“Please don’t be mad.” 

 

“I’m not mad.” It wasn’t a lie. Vanya felt numb like she had been in cold water for too long. She just wanted to move away and never see him again, so she would never be reminded of this disaster.  _ Why does nobody want me,  _ she couldn’t stop herself from wondering. Even though he claimed that he was doing it for her, a part of Vanya thought that he just didn't find her appealing. She didn’t blame him. He could have any girl he wanted, why the hell would he choose  _ her.  _ What she  _ could  _ blame her for was leading her on, making her think she had a chance with him and then embarassing her.

 

“Vanya, please.” He sounded broken, but she couldn’t feel any empathy for him. There was no way he was feeling worse than she was.

 


End file.
